


The Nights We Steal

by HomoHolly, shrrlocked



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots, emo trinity - Fandom
Genre: Emo Trinity, Frerard, Gay, Highschool AU, M/M, MCR, Peterick, Ryden, mcrying, petekey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9676382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomoHolly/pseuds/HomoHolly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrrlocked/pseuds/shrrlocked
Summary: everyone's gay in high schoolthat's basically it





	1. Chapter One

Gerard Way had many questions about life and the universe, but none of those questions included what mitosis was or how it worked, so why the fuck did he have to endure this?

Ryan, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying this lesson. This was probably because he also didn’t care about mitosis, but instead the wonderful view he had of Brendon, as he lazily doodled ‘R.R <3 B.U’ on all of the available surface areas, pausing to smile at Brendon every few minutes.

Was he worried about people seeing and assuming he was extremely gay (and also dating) a certain Brendon Urie? He snorted at the very thought, causing said Brendon Urie to look up in adorable confusion.

“Ry, shut the fuck up and stop doodling about your gay ass boyfriend for two seconds and answer me,” a very annoyed Pete Wentz whispered beside him.

Ryan huffed, sending quick grin to Brendon before turning his attention to Pete. “Just because you’re jealous that my gay ass actually knows how to keep a boyfriend. What do you want, Wentz?”

He sighed irritably and looked down at his work, twirling his pen in his hands. “I keep thinking about Patrick. I don’t even know how I could’ve done that to him.”

His words were almost inaudible, but they were loud enough to spark concern in Ryan. “Pete you… You can’t keep beating yourself up over this. I mean, yeah, you were a dick, but it’s in the past and you guys were never gonna last.”

Whether or not Ryan was right was completely out of the question, because now he was the one being a dick.

“I know… I just… He’s so innocent and I went and screwed him over, he didn’t deserve that,” Pete said indignantly. “Well at least one good thing came out of it; my songs are a lot more… better.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, and was secretly thankful his relationship was going steady, though he still felt sorry for his friend. “Still trying to start that band then?”

“Yeah… but I dunno man, we’re in senior year, I don’t think it’s gonna happen.” Pete shrugged, though he was always hopeful that at least three competent musicians would fall into his lap.

A new voice cut across their conversation. “Ross, perhaps you could tell me the difference between mitosis and meiosis?” Mr Hoppus asked accusingly. Ryan certainly could not, having paid no attention in this lesson at all. But Pete slid his notes over, accompanied with an exasperated sigh.

“Mitosis is when cells divide to create new identical cells, and meiosis is when they divide to create new sex cells,” Ryan explained, obviously not reading straight out of Pete’s notebook. Mr Hoppus seemingly didn’t have the energy to call bullshit, so he let the obvious lack of concentration slide.

“Hey Ryan, if Bren was paying attention I’m sure he’d have been proud of your acting there,” Frank says, swivelling in his seat as the bell finally rings out. Brendon suddenly came to life at the sound of his name, pretending he wasn’t just trying to nap.

“I’m totally proud of Ryan. What did he do?”

“Read out the answer I gave him cuz he, like you, was too busy daydreaming about gay ass shit to pay attention,” Pete supplied. Frank snorted, while Brendon grinned.

“Aw, babe. I was totally daydreaming about you too,” Brendon teased (obviously joking) as he put his arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s skip art for once, without the others,” he whispered quietly in his boyfriend’s ear.

Gerard watched from afar (well, not really- from, like, the other side of the classroom) as Ryan blushed like a pre-pubescent girl, Pete looked… envious? And that annoying little shit Frank Iero made gagging motions. 

As the group started to make their way out of the science lab to head for their next lesson, Frank briefly looked at Gerard and their eyes met, but Gerard quickly tore his away, not wanting that pocket-sized prick to notice him.

Gerard was vaguely aware of why he seemed to hate Frank so much- he was one of _those_ kids. The ones that always made unnecessary comments, shouted things out in class, and just didn’t know when to shut the fuck up. Gerard just wanted some peace in his lessons, to zone out and not pay attention, but instead he had to hear something along the lines of ‘your mum’ every five seconds. However despite all this, something about the boy fascinated Gerard, and he often found himself subconsciously observing him in lessons. He didn’t think much of it though. It was probably because Frank made the most noise.

***

For most people art was their favourite lesson; it was a chance to relax and spend the lesson on their phones, because the teacher couldn’t care less about school rules. Gerard actually did care, as he desperately scribbled the multitude of different characters he had in his head, while Frank put an almost alarming amount of effort into painting a penis.

Pete on the other hand spent the entire lesson on his phone, desperately trying to ignore the fact that Patrick hadn’t been in school since… well since it happened. He thought he was being subtle, but his violent key tapping had distracted Frank from his masterpiece. Masterpenis.

“Dude, who the fuck are you messaging?” Frank asked, genuinely annoyed that Ryan wasn’t here to deal with this like he usually did. Pete wasn’t sure if he was comfortable saying he had been writing song lyrics in anxiousness.

“Just the group chat.”

“What group chat? All your friends are either in this room or somewhere being gay with their boyfriends.” Frank inquired, beginning to get suspicious. Pete locked his phone, making a point of shoving it in his pocket.

“Doesn’t matter, alright? And fuck off; I have other friends than you guys,” Pete practically snarled. He knew he probably didn’t have the right to be worried about Patrick, but that didn’t stop his mind from wondering into probable scenarios.

Frank would usually straight up punch someone if they talked to him like that, or at least fight back- but it was _Pete_ who was getting angry. The guy who held a funeral for a daddy longlegs he had accidentally killed. Something had happened, and, as much as Frank didn’t want to pry, he was genuinely worried about the guy.

"Dude look, I know we're not that close or anything... but... I don't know, if you ever need to talk or anything..." Frank trailed off, knowing that this could be taken in a good or a bad way by Pete, and trying to gauge which reaction was more likely.

From the sigh Pete heaved, Frank assumed the boy was doing all he possibly could to not throw Frank’s tiny self out of the window or something. Sensing it would be better to give him some space than make him talk, Frank went in search of some of that textured paper he’d discovered about three months ago and only just remembered; it was somewhere at the back of the room, he just wasn’t sure where.

It also didn't help that he was about the height of a one of those palm tree house plants, so couldn't reach the tallest shelves; much to the amusement of some red-haired prick, who kept sniggering. Usually Frank would have made some snide remark about the boy but his mind was otherwise occupied with worry for his friend.

Gerard watched in great amusement, but was surprised when all he got was a nasty look instead of some sort of malicious comment. Was Frank feeling alright? Did Gerard even care? He wanted to say no, but for some incredibly unexplainable reason he did, and he didn’t like it.

“You look like you could use some assistance,” Gerard stated quietly, having no idea what had possessed him or given him the power to actually speak. The second the words left his mouth he looked back at his sketchbook, wondering how he could have been so stupid, and soon felt a draft as the small emo brushed past him on his way back to his desk.

“You look like you could use some sun,” Frank muttered as he walked past, having no idea if Gerard’s comment was even meant to be condescending or not. Didn't matter. He just knew it pissed him off, so better to sit in the self-hatred Pete was emitting than to try and stop himself from punching Gerard in the jaw.

During the time Frank had been searching for this paper (which by the way - he had completely forgotten), Pete had achieved nothing. Not a muscle in his body had moved; he'd been too busy trying to shut out certain thoughts.

"I bet Ryan and Bren are having more fun than us." Frank muttered, sliding back into his seat beside Pete. He decided to not mention Gerard, Pete seemingly dealing with enough right now.

Realising he hadn't gotten the textured paper, Frank cursed under his breath, before sneakily taking a picture of his masterpenis and sending it to the group chat.

The sound of the shutter apparently brought Pete back to life, glancing to the source of the noise, and suddenly realising the fucking huge penis. "I don't know if that's a waste of resources or not,” he stated.

Frank was staring at his phone, attempting to suppress his giggles. When he noticed Pete observing him he passed over his phone which was open on the group chat.

**Beebo:**

_Omg_

_Tell me that doesn’t remind you of Pete’s dick_

_Before you get offended Petey_

_that’s not bad… it’s not a bad dick_

_let’s be real_

Pete stared at the phone in disdain, muttering something along the lines of 'you send your dick pic to the wrong person one time', before getting his own phone out.

**P.Money:**

_How the fuck does it look like my dick Why are you even commenting on my dick I thought you would be focused on Ryan's_

Just then the bell rang, and Frank hurriedly shoved his artwork into his back and packed everything away, before walking out the door as if it had been a lesson well spent. Pete on the other hand, dragged his feet behind Frank. While the group chat had cheered him up a bit, he still desperately hoped that each notification wouldn’t be them, but _him **.**_ And he was worried about how unlikely that was appearing to be. After all it had been nearly a fortnight, and nothing could’ve changed in that time.

Could it?


	2. Chapter Two

"Yes he called you a vampire. Yes that was completely unacceptable. Can we please stop talking about Frank fucking Iero now?" Mikey grumbled, having to endure the ravings and rantings from his brother on their walk home from school.

"Fine," Gerard snapped. "I assume you've got a better topic of conversation?"

Mikey shrugged at this, absolutely not having a better topic of conversation. Just as long as it wasn't about a short-tempered fuck boy. However he was saved from having to find a topic by someone behind him shouting his name.

"Fuck, you guys walk fast," Ray panted, having to lean against the wall for good measure. The Way brothers stopped, waiting for Ray to regain his ability to talk. "Why weren't you in science today Mikey? I've got the notes if you want them to catch up from."

Gerard grinned at Mikey, as he now had knowledge which would totally get him into shit. If Gerard was cruel enough to use that knowledge of course.

“Gee please, _please_ don’t tell Mom. I had a genuine reason. I can’t tell you but please, for once in your life believe me. I’ll listen to you whine about the emo for ever and ever. Just please don’t rat me out.” Mikey was begging for the first time in his life, and it genuinely worried Gerard.

Ray bit his lip slightly, realising he just completely and utterly dropped Mikey in it Gerard only found this whole thing amusing. "I'm obviously not going too. Just do my chores for a while, it's fine."

Mikey opened his mouth to protest, before closing it again as he realised this was his only option.

Gerard merely grinned in victory, while Ray cleared his throat, praying Mikey now didn’t hate him. “So, uh – what was your genuine reason? I was lonely as fuck.”

Mikey leant over to whisper in Ray’s ear. “I’ll uh… I’ll tell you later. Sorry.”

Ray nodded, desperately telling himself that the only reason Mikey wasn’t saying anything was because his brother was here, and not because he was hiding things.

Gerard coughed, trying to get their attention. “I don’t know about you Mikey but I’m cold so…goodbye Ray. I’m going home. Coming Mikes?”

Mikey rolled his eyes at Gerard’s impatience, but sent a quick smile to Ray. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll message you tonight, okay?”

Ray nodded slightly. “Yeah, okay,” he said quietly as the other two turned their backs and walked away.

Gerard was actually glad for Ray, as it offered a distraction (Raystraction) from _certain_ thoughts of _certain_ people. It also offered a new conversation topic. “So where the fuck were you in that lesson?”

Mikey sighed in defeat; he had hoped that Gerard would drop it completely. “Why does it even matter? You cut class all the time don’t you?”

The older brother scoffed. “Yes, but that’s expected of me. You’re the good one.”

“Well maybe I’m sick of being the good one,” Mikey replied, but Gerard just laughed disbelievingly. Mikey realised he needed to come up with an excuse, and fast.

But this appeared to be a day in which God had taken pity among Mikey Way, in the form of Frank Iero and Pete Wentz crossing the road just a bit ahead of them.

“Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck. I just remembered I… uh… I left something at school,” Gerard blurted out, stopping immediately in his steps.

“What could you have possibly left? It’s not like you ever do homework-“ Mikey began, until he followed where Gerard was looking. “Oh.”

Gerard had gone oddly silent, and was looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Mikey on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring, not even when he realised they were walking right towards him and Gerard.

"Why are they walking over?" Mikey practically whispered, already worried that a fight might break out, from the way Gerard had been talking about Frank.

"I don't know..." Gerard mumbled, all of a sudden very interested in the hedge next to his face.

-

"Frank, this is really unnecessary." Pete repeated, for like, fiftieth time, as they approached Gerard Way and his cute sidekick. Whoever that was.

"It is completely necessary," Frank replied. "You need cheering up and this is the perfect way to do it."

“I’m fine,” Pete insisted. “I don’t need cheer- Frank? Why have you stopped?”

The pairs of emos were now around three metres away from each other, an uneasy silence falling around them.

“Fuck,” Frank muttered. “Today of all fucking days.”

Like that, the silence had disappeared, and a murderous glare formed on Gerard’s face. Pete sighed.

“What the fuck is that meant to mean?”

“Nothing,” Frank snapped. He ignored Pete’s questioning glance. “Why does it even matter to you anyway?”

Gerard scoffed. “Nothing. I’m just brutally wounded that I seemingly make your day worse. Obviously.”

Mikey was now regretting not going with Ray, and couldn’t help but notice _The Pete Wentz_ also looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

“Uh Frank,” Pete whispered. “Shouldn’t we go?”

Frank turned his head towards his companion and smiled slightly. “Yeah, maybe we should.”

Frank grabbed Pete’s hand (no homo) and pulled him forwards, barging through Mikey and Gee. The latter flipped them off as they walked away, while Mikey stared longingly at Pete.

Gerard closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing on his walk home.

“Well that was a nice talk,” Mikey noted, and followed his brother.

“Oh, fuck off lanky,” Gerard sighed, followed by him muttering: “Fucking Frank Iero.”

Mikey snorted at the irony of that sentence. “So, you’re like, totally not obsessed with him or anything like that. At all. Like, I’m one hundred percent not getting that vibe.”

Gerard turned to face his brother, and Mikey was expecting a snappy comeback, but all Gerard could muster was a lazy “fuck off” before increasing his walking pace slightly.

Mikey, being the annoying little brother he was, immediately matched this walking pace. “And that definitely doesn’t sound like denial.”

Mikey didn’t receive a reply, as they had finally reached their front door. Mikey noticed a strange car parked outside and nudged his brother. They shared a look before opening the door to the smell of old lady and the last voice either of them wanted to hear.

“You sure Gerard won’t mind if I share with him?” Bob asked, the voice of angelic innocence travelling through the house. Gerard was overcome with the sensation to set something on fire.

Preferably Bob.

"Actually," Gerard exclaimed, bursting through the front door, "I would mind, very much." The effect was somewhat ruined by Mikey sniggering quietly behind him.

Donna immediately sighed, while Bob sent a just wonderful shit-eating grin to Gerard. It was like the devil and the antichrist had some angry sex, and then produced this thing. This homophobic, button-pushing prick. If anyone was expecting Gerard to share a house, let alone a room with this fucker, plates would be thrown.

"Gerard, stop being ridiculous. Bob is family. It's not for long and you have the biggest room." Gerard's mother gave him _the look_ and continued. "Why don't you show Bob where to put his things?"

Gerard was frankly offended, and Mikey really wasn't helping. The fucker was still sniggering. His mother clearly hated him, as she and the entire family knew; Bob and Gerard had been friends for approximately 0.3 seconds of their lives.

However, they didn't understand why, and as far as Gerard could help it, they would never find out. He started to make his way down to his room in the basement, and assumed that his cousin was following, but hoped with everything he had that Bob had decided to stay put.

Bob had not decided to stay put.

"Excited for this week then, bunk buddy?" Bob asked, _much_ too chipper, as he threw himself onto _Gerard’s_ bed.

Gerard chose to ignore him, and attempted to hide anything that could provide mocking material for Bob. This was a hard task to fully complete, considering Gerard liked D&D, Audrey Hepburn, Fangoria, Harry Houdini, and croquet.

But even then, it didn't matter. Bob would and could find anything to take the piss out of Gerard for. For example, the way Gerard looks at guys.

“Excited,” Gerard muttered irritably, “is not the right word for how I’m feeling.” It was taking all his will power not to scream or hit something in frustration. Today had not been a good day, and he knew it would only get worse from here.

"Oh come off it. Whatever did I do to you?" Bob said in an irritatingly joking matter, as everything was just a fucking joke to him.

Gerard didn’t want to open his mouth to utter a reply. He was concerned that once he did, he’d say something that would plant an idea in Bob’s head; that he really didn’t want to be there.

Bob waited for the reply that never came, before sighing. "Whatever. So I get the bed right? I mean, _I am_ the guest and all. And family."

Gerard sighed, before finally gaining his voice again. “How about the garden? I’ve heard that’s a nice place to sleep.”

Bob laughed. Cute. He thought Gerard wasn't being serious. "You can have the greenhouse, mate. Or maybe Mikey can. He's looking particularly... Weedy? Is that the right word?"

"Don't you fucking dare bring Mikey into this. Don't you dare," Gerard practically spat at Bob, his patience beginning to wear thin.

"Oh calm down, princess. I was only joking. Kind of. But we're _family._ Besides, you have to admit that he does look like he needs more meat on his bones?" Bob obviously saw how pissed off Gerard was getting, but it was fun to poke a bear.

Bob’s gaze landed on the box of school books in the corner of the room, almost hidden completely by the darkness. “Wow… high school. Best time of my life. Except from when I had to remind those fucking fags to keep their disgusting relationship away from everyone. Actually, thinking about it, that was kinda satisfying.”

Gerard gulped, starting to feel a little sick and struggling to breathe properly. Bob had gone too far.

There was no way he was staying in this house, not with his cousin around. Calmly, he slowly strode out of the basement, up the stairs and out of the front door.

Once he had passed the threshold of the house his pace began to rapidly increase, as did his breathing. He had no idea where he was going, but somehow he ended up in a deserted back alley off of a street he didn’t recognise, his back sliding down the wall like the tears were over his face.

Fuck. If the tiniest fucking comment set him off like this, how was he supposed to share a house, let alone a room, with that asshole for a week? Fuck.

He just had to control his breathing, because he was in public. And he never left the fucking house, so of course he got lost almost immediately. He'd have to ask for help.

Fuck.

Almost as if higher powers had read his mind, a figure half stumbled into the alley, with a cigarette in one hand and a phone in the other. All Gerard could make out of the conversation was: “I don’t know, just suck him off or something, doesn’t that usually work for you guys?”

Gerard watched as the figure leaned against the wall, taking a drag of the cigarette, before their face was illuminated by the nearby streetlight.

Fucking Frank Iero.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah we're terrible, but we also have important exams so :)))

Frank stopped immediately in his tracks. “What the fuck are you doing here? Are you fucking stalking me or something?”

Now would be an excellent time for Gerard to not have tears in his eyes. But that would mean something going right in Gerard’s life, which is a ridiculous concept really.

“You know what? I don’t even care right now,” Frank raised the hand with a cigarette in to his forehead and began to massage his temples. “Either go away or stay sat doing whatever the fuck you’re doing. Just don’t bother me.”

Gerard swallowed the lump in his throat, sadness quickly being replaced with anger. He obviously already knew that Frank was an asshole, but he was really pushing the limits. "It's a fucking alleyway, you don't exactly own it. And I was here first, fuckface."

“Watch who you call fuckface, alright?” Frank spits, literally and figuratively looking down on the other teen.

Gerard had to suppress a smirk, which was pretty odd considering the circumstances. But Frank was half Gerard's height, so what damage could he possibly do? Though, In all honesty, Gerard kind of wanted to leave because his ass was getting wet. But then Frank might think he actually won the battle.

“Oh bite me,” Gerard retorted. “I mean, I’m already a vampire aren’t I? So you can’t exactly do me any damage can you?”

Frank shook his head, rolled his eyes and took a long drag of his cigarette. “I might have actually considered that a good comeback, if you weren’t crouching on the fucking floor.” As he spoke, smoke rolled out of his mouth and nose, giving him the impression of a short angry dragon. He almost considered asking why Gerard was here, but he still wasn’t sure if he cared or not.

Neither of them wanted to stay contained in the awkward silence that had overtaken the alley, with only the faint sounds of faraway cars to mark the passing of time. But then again, neither of them had anywhere else they wanted to go either. So, the silence lingered on, until a ringtone pierced the air.

Gerard gingerly pulled his phone out of his pocket as Frank attempted to look anywhere but Gerard’s direction, because he obviously doesn’t give a shit, right?

“Mikey, don’t even bother defending him.” Gerard began, before Mikey even had a chance to speak, as Frank leant against the wall, smoking the cigarette into oblivion.

Frank was immediately intrigued.

“Mikey I don’t... I don’t wanna hear it Mikey... I am not coming home with him in my room... Mikey I just... I can’t okay... don’t make me mad at you Mikes... please...” Gerard was whispering furiously by the end of it, attempting to hide his emotions from the shorter teen.

Frank couldn’t help but listen in. Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t care at all about the emo he just happened to keep running into, but this sounded like it was affecting Gerard a lot, and Frank wasn’t heartless. Not entirely, anyway.

The cigarette was soon a memory, as Frank stamped it into the ground. The phone call finished shortly after, and the silence took over again, but this time it felt more prominent. More like they were drowning in it, as Gerard’s breaths appeared to be shorter.

“Mikey. Your brother, right?”

Gerard didn’t reply immediately; he was trying to gauge whether or not Frank was going to be a dick or not, because he didn’t think he could take any more arrogance from anyone right now. That and he was trying to make sense of the mass of thoughts in his brain.

"Yeah. You saw him earlier." Gerard finally replied, the ghost of sarcasm in his voice.

Frank chuckled, shaking his head from side to side slowly. “Oh of course, I remember him now. He was pining after Wentz wasn’t he?”

Gerard frowned, before full on glaring at Frank. "What do you mean, pining? My brother’s not gay. Especially not for Wentz." He said, not believing that he almost thought Frank wasn't a total dick.

“Oh come on, Way, it’s so obvious. I bet if you asked him he wouldn’t be able to remember any of the conversation between me and you.” He threw his cigarette stub on the floor, before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a new one, and lighting it.

Gerard shook his head in disbelief. "You're talking out of your ass. My brother. Is. Not. Gay." He wasn't. Because if he was, Gerard would have surely picked up on it by now? Then again, Mikey hadn't shown any signs that he knew Gerard played for the other team...

“Wait, denial?” Frank actually paused for a second before continuing. “You’re either a really shitty person or a really unobservant brother.”

Gerard scoffed, also finally making the decision to stand up, and (attempt to) wipe the dirt and general grossness off of his jeans. "Or I'm neither, and you just like to think you know everything."

Frank shook his head, tilting his head back to blow out a long whirl of smoke, before facing Gerard. "Yep, you're just a shitty brother."

Gerard had completely forgotten about the events that had caused him to be here. Everything that he couldn’t take at home didn’t matter; no-one called him a shitty brother and got away with it.

Still, he never thought he’d actually punch Frank Iero.

And apparently neither did Frank, who went reeling backwards into a wall, throwing his hands to his face only to be met with blood. A lot of blood. A whole fucking lot of blood pouring out of his nose, onto his hands, clothes and the floor, staining the once white cigarette a beautiful scarlet colour.

Gerard clutched his fist to his chest, pain radiating throughout his hand, as he stared in shock at the now bleeding teenager. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t planning on causing Frank pain or anything, but he didn’t realise quite how strong he apparently was.

“Shit.” Was all Gerard could think to say. He’d never really _injured_ somebody before. Like, seriously.

Frank began to panic. Sure he’d bled before, but it was never like this, and never from a fight. He couldn’t call anyone; his parents were somehow still under the impression that he was the kind of kid that was in bed by eleven o’clock. What if it was broken? How would he ever be able to explain that?

He then remembered Gerard, who was also panicking as he was under the impression that Frank could still, well, beat the shit out of him.

“What the fuck Way!?” Frank exploded, throwing his hands into the air, effectively spraying blood everywhere, some of it even landing on Gerard.

“Well... Well you fucking started it!” The older screamed back, but immediately piped down as soon as he saw Franks face, which looked a bit... bent. And very red. Had he broken Frank Iero’s nose?

“Started it? Started what! I wasn’t even serious, fuck, and now I’ve got blood! Pouring out my face! And this is my favourite fucking T-shirt...” Frank trailed off at the end, pain shooting throughout his entire face, and now also his heart as he looked down in dismay at his ruined Morrissey top.

Gerard began to frantically search through the contents of his pockets, dropping various items on the floor in the process. Eventually he pulled out a tissue that had been in there since, well, he didn’t know when, and held it out towards Frank and his deformed face. “I’ve only got this but, uh, I can call someone or... uh... I don’t fucking know. If only you were Bob. That fucking asshole should have been the one I punched, instead of wasting what’s probably going to be my only good punch on you.”

The latter part of that was meant to be said internally, but Gerard soon realised he had muttered aloud as he was handing Frank the very suspicious tissue. Frank stared at Gerard in disbelief, before snatching the tissue out of his hand and began to delicately dab his face with it. The bleeding had appeared to have stopped, but the pain sure as hell was still there.

“I’m so devastatingly sorry about that fact.” Frank spat, managing to get the excess blood off of his face, leaving a nice red sheen. “Really - surprisingly enough, I also kind of wish you wasted you wasted your one ‘good punch’ on fucking Bert or whatever.”

“Bob,” Gerard countered, “and honestly with every word you say I’m regretting it less and less. I mean I knew you were a complete fuck but... I can’t fucking do this now. Do you want any assistance or can I fuck off and ignore my feelings elsewhere?”

“Bob.” Frank replied, littering the tissue and resorting to use his T-shirt to mop up any of the mess he could. Well, it was already ruined wasn’t it? “Don’t you worry, I’m going home. I’m so sorry if my words hurt your delicate ass feelings. I sure hope they aren’t fucking broken!” As Frank spoke, his voice got gradually louder and more fuelled with rage. He walked forwards, purposely violently pushing into Gerard before exiting the alley way. “See you in school, fuckface.”

For the second time that evening Gerard slid his back down the brick wall, alone in a dark back alley. But this time there were no tears, no anger, just shock and numbness, like he was the one who had been punched. He didn’t know how long he sat there, his head on his knees and his hands pulling his legs closer to his chest in an effort to keep out the cold.

He wasn’t asleep, but he wasn’t really aware of anything either. Not until he heard the voice of the only person he actually cared about even a little at this moment in time.

“Gerard? Is that you?” Mikey called out into the darkness, being careful in his steps because the hunched figure in the alleyway could be technically anyone. “You sounded kind of weird on the phone, and I kind of remembered your log in details for your phone... Don’t be mad?”

Gerard lifted his head from his knees, and smiled at his brother. “Yeah, it’s me Mikes. And I’m too tired to care.” He said, summing up the energy to stand up again, but this time not bothering to wipe off anything that may or may not be on his clothes. Mikey let out a relieved sigh, until he walked closer and took a slight look at his surroundings.

“Wait, is that fucking blood?!” Mikey exclaimed, now examining Gerard for any potential stab wounds or bullet holes.

“Woah, calm down! I mean, technically... Yes. But it’s not mine, so don’t worry” Gerard, began to walk out of the alleyway, the way Mikey had come in and Frank had left, but stopped when he realised he wasn’t being followed. He turned around with a quizzical look on his face, to his brother who was standing there staring in basically fear at his surroundings.

“Do you... Do you know who’s blood it is?” He asked, with worry laced in his voice. Was his brother now a murderer, on top of everything else?

Well, it probably wouldn’t surprise him

But still.

“Frank Iero’s. I punched him in the face. Can we go now? It’s fucking cold out here.” Gerard motioned to the street, which would eventually lead them to their house, and effectively warmth. And fucking Bob. But he would burn that bridge when he got to it.

“So you leave the house for an hour- an hour, Gee- and you get into a fucking fight?” Mikey asked in disbelief, though slowly walking towards his brother, as he tried to avoid as much of the blood as possibly. He was now also beginning to realise there were drops on Gerard’s clothes. Gerard just shrugged.

“It wasn’t really a fight. Just a slight altercation. Look, it doesn’t even matter right now. Can we talk about another time?” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he made a point of looking extremely impatient and bored. Mikey just shook his head, and caught up to Gerard as they began to walk home.

“Hey, Mikes?” Gerard asked after they had walked in silence for a minute or two.

“Yeah?”

“Are you gay?”


End file.
